


A Strange Universe

by Calico_Cat_TIVA_Fan



Category: NCIS
Genre: Deep Six, Drunken Ramblings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25836952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico_Cat_TIVA_Fan/pseuds/Calico_Cat_TIVA_Fan
Summary: After a night of drinking with the team, Tim McGee finds himself in a weird new world; characters are oddly familiar, yet different. A possible explanation of how the Deep Six characters came to be.
Kudos: 3





	A Strange Universe

A Strange Universe

_After a night of drinking with the team, Tim McGee finds himself in a weird new world; characters are oddly familiar, yet different. A possible explanation of how the Deep Six characters came to be._

Tim McGee rolled over in his bed and groaned. His head hurt and his throat burned; he remembered the beer, the tequila, the ouzo shots. He was definitely going to be in rough shape for the next twenty four hours or so. Thank goodness the MCRT was not on call for the current weekend.

He carefully sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress. If he hadn't needed to answer the call of nature, he would have most definitely chosen to stay curled under the covers of his bed. Slowly he stood up, steadying himself before attempting to take any steps. Why did the bathroom seem SO far away?

Tim managed to get to the porcelain throne in one piece and sighed as he relieved himself. Alcohol had a way of making one's bladder scream when full. He flushed and washed his hands, fully intending to crawl back in his bed and sleep off the effects of the liquid fire that he'd consumed all too much.

Using the ambient light in his bedroom, Tim started back towards the bed. He stopped moving when he heard sounds coming from outside the room. Who or what was in his apartment, and more importantly, why?

He grabbed his robe from the chair by the bed and shrugged into the garment as he tried to move silently towards his living room. A thin stream of light poured through the crack between the bedroom door and the short hallway.

Tim inched the door open to the point where he could slip between the door and the frame. The sounds got a bit louder and he could distinctly hear voices as he crept along the hallway. He peeked around the corner of the wall; wait, what happened to HIS living room? Where were his bookshelves, his computers, his typewriter, his vinyl record album collection?

The room before him had modern black leather sofas, glass and shiny chrome end and coffee tables; modern artwork reproductions on the wall. A large screen television was mounted on the wall. Where had that come from?

He noticed a man sitting on one of the sofas; the curly hair seemed vaguely familiar. Tim tried to move forward enough to see the man's other features, but he bumped his knee on the wall when his slipper caught on the pile of the carpet. Wait, CARPET?

The man stood and looked in his direction. Tim recognized the face immediately from the round glasses and quirky smile. "Jimmy?" Tim was confused; what was the Medical Examiner's Assistant doing in his, or what should be his, living room?

"Aw, come on; you KNOW it's Pimmy, not Jimmy," the man responded with a scowl. "I can't help if my parents had a weird sense of humor and flipped the first letters of my names."

"Uh, yeah, okay," Tim scrubbed a hand over his face. "So, um, what're you doing HERE?"

"Dang, Agent McGregor, that bump on the head must have really messed you up," Pimmy replied. "Maybe you should have Doctor Drake check you out again. Do you really not remember that we all hang out at his estate?"

Tim shook his head, "No, um, Ji, um, Pimmy; where are the others?"

"Most of them are outside by the pool, I suspect. Do you want me to go with you?"

"Please; and help me remember while we go, if you don't mind," Tim was really confused now. He had absolutely no idea where he was nor why. He followed Pimmy Jalmer (dang his brain really couldn't wrap itself around that name) through a hallway and an open room to a set of sliding doors.

In the room, which was part of a large open floor plan kitchen, a tall woman with very blonde short curly hair was filling a Caf-POW! cup from what appeared to be a dispenser for the beverage.

"That's our Forensic Scientist, Amy Sutton. She's also our resident Goth, in case you haven't noticed," Pimmy explained.

"I heard that!" Amy glared at the ME Assistant. "I am NOT a Goth, Jalmer. I am ME!" Tim looked at the woman who reminded him of Abby. A blonde-haired Abby with a short bob. "Oh, good, you found McGregor!" She turned to Tim, "How's your head?"

"Um, fine?" Tim wondered what they thought had happened to him; so far everyone he'd encountered seemed to be under the impression that he'd had a head injury.

"Oh, good, good, good," the woman shuffled over to the men and wrapped her arms around Tim. "I'm so glad you aren't seriously hurt." Tim looked downward as she squeezed him in a bear hug. The woman had on platform flip-flops; no wonder she had moved in a weird manner. He wasn't exactly sure how she managed to walk in them with their two inch platforms, black velvet ribbon running from between the big toe to the sides, and skull icons on the sides.

Amy turned to Pimmy, "Everyone is outside waiting for the steaks to finish grilling. Let's go." She led the two men through a hallway to a deck. Tim noticed a gray-haired man at a large grill; he was talking to an obviously older man with a British accent. He glanced around and noticed a couple off to the shadows, wrapped around each other and oblivious to the world.

Pimmy noticed what Tim was observing, "Oh, that's just agents Tommy and Lisa. When we have unwinding time, those two are wound up in each other. Gotta give them credit, they do pretty well at keeping their hands off each other at work."

Amy did a shuffle-run to the older men, "Tibbs! Tibbs! Tibbs!" She addressed the gray-haired man who looked very much like Gibbs. "McGregor is awake; seems to be okay from his head injury."

Tibbs looked at Tim, "Still let Doctor Drake check you over, son. Wouldn't want to have to take you to the ER with a concussion."

Tim sat on a picnic bench while the old doctor did a quick exam; he followed the man's finger and had the doc peer into his eyes. When Doctor Drake declared him fit, Tim got up to get a beverage from the nearby cooler. He noticed the ice was nearly gone from the bucket so he offered to go get more.

"Tell Tommy and Lisa that the steaks are almost ready while you are at it," Tibbs directed as Tim headed back the way he came outside.

On the enclosed part of the deck he called out to the two agents who were slightly flushed and breathing heavily while adjusting their clothes. "Steaks are almost ready according to the boss man," he tried not to look at the pair who were still intertwined.

"Thanks," they spoke as one.

Tim put the ice bucket on the counter in the large kitchen and headed to the hallway to his bedroom. He entered the room; the only part of the house that looked familiar. It WAS his bedroom from HIS apartment. He shut the door and moved to the bathroom to grab a couple of aspirin for the hang-over headache he could feel coming on.

He slipped on a pair of lightweight lounge pants and a t-shirt; he slid his feet back into his slippers and opened the bedroom door. He blinked twice; he was back in his apartment. He grabbed a pack of paper and sat down at his typewriter. His mind was already throwing out the words as he fed the sheet into the old-school machine.

' _Deep Six: The Continuing Adventures of L.J. Tibbs…_ '


End file.
